Discover Top Posts Tagged with #clementine kent

More country superbat au yuri drabbles because the masses asked let's goooo

Previous drabble

[Disclaimer: Kit is not American nor do they have experience in farms. Kit can only extrapolate from what they've seen in their relatives' smaller crop farms. Forgive any inaccuracies. Also happy (late) birthday @butcherlarry i promised I'd dedicate it to you.]

Employment at the Wayne Farms meant a demanding schedule and the scrutiny of one Thomas Wayne at the end of every work day. Clementine knew the man was hard on her because of her temporary status, but she couldn't help but feel like her quick friendship with a certain sweet rose had something to do with it. Mr. Wayne had a habit of assigning her to work the barns and the stables most days, which never particularly proved to be an issue for her. Her childhood chores had included tending to the livestock in her Ma's barn, so this was no big deal.

And as Clementine watched the woman beside her haul a hay bale onto another, sweat dripping down her face and into her collar, she admitted to herself that the eye candy certainly made it even easier to bear.

When Briar had bounded into the barn in the afternoon, face flushed from the long journey back from the community centre, Clementine had greeted her with her usual enthusiasm. The cows and the sheep had already been let out to graze, and the horses were being tended to by the other employed hands, so all Clementine had to do was clean the enclosures and haul in hay bales.

"You're back early! How'd your day go, doll?" Clementine wiped the sweat off her brow and straightened up as Briar got closer, eyes roaming over the woman's state. She hadn't been able to see her in the morning, already having been moved to milking the cows, so she drank in Briar's presence like a woman starved. "No dresses today?"

"No, you've never really seen me in them, have you?" Briar's eyes crinkled as she smiled, eyes like clear water sparkling in the sun, and Clementine could feel her vitality return at the sight. "Father doesn't like them 'cause I like to steal his," she extended her leg out and Clementine spotted the minor tailoring done to make them fit on Briar's long legs. "He doesn't listen when I tell him the ones he gets me aren't comfortable, and then throws a fit about these ones."

Clementine felt her face lift up in a lopsided grin, the rake in her hands bearing the entirety of her weight as she took in the tight belt around Briar's waist and the open buttons of her shirt. "Well they do fit you mighty well, dare I say better than they do him." Briar shifted in place and laughed in response, her collar pulling back to reveal the start of her collarbone, and Clementine had to swallow and turn away before she did something in the wrong place.

"Your stamp of approval is well appreciated, Ms. Kent." The other woman moved to grab one of the spare rakes and moved to stand beside Clementine. "How about I help you with that? You must have angered Father a whole bunch for him to make you clean the entire barn by yourself."

A vision of purple blooming over the now blemishless skin of Briar's neck as she sat for Sunday dinner came to mind. Thomas Wayne must have really hated not knowing where that came from, and must have hated her influence on his only daughter even more.

The phantom sensation of skin trapped against her lip had her smiling to herself.

"Its the smallest one, so I don't mind. If it pleases ya, I'd be glad for help. I'm almost done, just gotta bring in the new hay for the cows." It was an easy acquisition on her part. Besides, any time spent alone with her sweet rose was more than enough compensation. Besides, Briar was quite strong in her own right, and seemed to enjoy helping the hired hands around the farms a lot. Bringing in the hay shouldn't be too hard for them both.

Which led her to her current gorgeous view. The hay bale in her hands was a forgotten weight as she stared at Briar, fixated on her exposed forearms and the smattering of moles and silver scars of childhood. Sweat poured from the both of them, dampening their shirts and filling the space of the barn with wet heat. Briar turned to look at her and caught the blatant staring, and all Clementine could do in response was smile like a lovesick fool. The flush of Briar's face was only partially from the physical labour, and dark satisfaction curled in her core at being the one to bring that from her flower.

"Are you going to stop staring at me any time soon? I thought you wanted to get this done in time for supper." Briar huffed at her, her face turned away but her flaming ears gave her away.

"I'd be sorry if I ignored the sight you make for sore eyes, doll. Your daddy won't mind if I keep you an hour longer, will he?" The tease in her voice was thick and heavy, and Clementine could see the gears in Briar's head turn as she finally put away the hay bale in her hands, wiping the dust off her hands as she waited for Briar's response. "We're almost done here either way. Just gotta scatter the rest."

Briar's lip trembled as Clementine moved closer, like a snake slithering to her next meal, like a headstrong predator who knew exactly how to trap her prey. "We've gotta wash up-"

"Yeah yeah, we'll get there. We've got a lotta time for that." One step, two, three, she was almost there-

Clementine sputtered around a faceful of hay as Briar took the chance and grabbed more hay. "We've still got one more job to do." There was mischief in her eyes, childlike and sweet, and Clementine couldn't help but follow her whims at the moment. Besides, it didn't matter how they scattered the hay as long as it got scattered, did it?

"You're on, Briar."

They ran in circles and zigzags and all sorts of shapes in the wide expanse of the empty barn, throwing handfuls upon handfuls of hay at each other, laughter peeling from their mouths as they did so. Jumping past the enclosures and hiding behind tall stacks of hay, catching each other off guard with a well timed distraction, they tore through the remaining hay bales like children high off sugar.

Joy often did end up tasting sweet.

After a long while of chasing, Clementine managed to catch Briar in the face with the final handful of hay, tackling her onto the covered ground in fits of giggles. The woman hadn't been ready for the rush of motion and went down like a sack of bricks, hands already coming up to push at Clementine and get her revenge. But she proved stronger and held her victim down, huffs of breath escaping her as the adrenaline began settling down in their veins.

Only then did she realise the position they had fallen into, with her over Briar, her sweet rose's hands trapped high above her head, chests heaving with exertion from their playful activities. Briar still laughed as she relented to her powerful hold, slumping into the barn floor with the dying symphony of joy. Her eyes sparkled just like they had earlier, a fresh spring breeze to lighten her day, the hint of morning dew on the pastures.

Her hair has slipped from her low ponytail a while back, and the band still dangled from Clementine's wrist. Hay had gotten into the black of her hair, spread around her like a halo. In the fading sunlight shining through the barn windows, with pink dusting her face and sweat pooling down into her collarbones, with laugh lines spreading through her face and her pink lips twisted in a smile, she looked like the most beautiful woman in the world.

They both stared at her with the echoes of their laughter still filling the barn, still smiling, still mesmerized by each other.

"Hi." Briar said, mirth making a home in her features.

"Hi there."

"You caught me."

All the restraint Clementine has shown earlier burst forth like water through a dam, and she pulled her sweet flower up into a kiss just as beautiful as her.

"I caught you."

Thomas Wayne could wait another hour.

(Fin.)